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Chapter Three

R age

Pulling out of the lot at Saints Ink, I twisted the throttle hard, more than ready to get to the clubhouse.

It’d been another long fucking day at the shop and I was ready to burn off some steam between the thighs of a willing cherry before passing out for at least twelve hours.

All night, Marco and Jade bitched about how I needed to hire more help.

They weren’t wrong.

Business was booming and the three of us couldn’t keep doing it alone. Every one of us was booked solid. Add in the walk-ins we didn’t want to turn away and there wasn’t a second to breathe between clients. Which was good for our wallets, even if it meant dealing with Jade’s smart mouth every time the phone rang. Marco hadn’t been much better.

As I was thinking that I needed to put an ad in the paper for another artist and someone to answer the phone, a dark streak of fur shot out into the road.

Right into my goddamn path.

“Shit!”

Without thinking, I yanked the handlebars, tires skidding against the asphalt as I swerved hard to the right.

“Motherfucker.” My heart was hammering in my chest as I glanced back just in time to see a black dog roll and tumble into the ditch.

Goddammit.

Growling under my breath, I stomped on the kickstand and swung off my bike. It was late. Or early depending on how you looked at it.

The streets were quiet at this hour, allowing me to hear the animal whimpering in pain.

Jogging over, I found the dog curled up at the base of the ditch, ribs rising and falling way too fast. He was a mess, his fur matted with dried dirt, patches missing, paws bleeding and torn up from being knocked across the pavement. Looking closer, I could see the poor thing was skinny as shit, too. I didn’t see a collar, either. He was probably a stray.

“Just fucking great,” I said under my breath as I carefully made my way down the incline. Approaching slowly so as not to spook him, I crouched beside him. “You scared the hell out of me, you know that?”

The dog trembled, lifting his head just enough to stare up at me with big, wary black eyes before he whimpered again.

“Shit.” Swiping a palm down my face, I exhaled hard. I didn’t have the first fucking clue what to do. But leaving him here wasn’t an option, either.

I reached out carefully, testing his reaction. “Easy, boy.”

He lifted his head slightly, sniffing at my fingers.

Before I could touch him, a car door slammed behind me.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A feminine voice demanded from behind me.

I spun around to find a woman a few feet behind me, hands on her hips like she was ready to go twelve rounds with me.

My lips twitched at the thought. I was a big fucking guy and she thought she was tall, she was no match for a grown man.

I took a moment to rake my eyes up her body. She was a hot little number from what I could see. Tight navy-blue scrubs, blonde hair twisted up in one of those messy buns chicks always threw together when they didn’t give a shit. Even with nothing but the streetlights to light her face, there was no missing the piss and vinegar in her narrowed eyes.

The chub in my jeans deflated. Bitchy women were not my thing.

“The fuck is your problem?” I shot back.

“My problem?” She scoffed, posture stiff as she pointed toward the dog. “What are you doing to that dog?”

My lips turned down. Was she?—?

Jesus fucking Christ. She sure as fuck was. “I’m trying to help him, Nurse Ratched.”

Her steps faltered. The angry blue eyes locked onto mine, turned wary, like maybe walking up on a guy putting a fucking chock hold on Lassie wasn’t the smartest move. In case you’re wondering. That’s not smart. Don’t do that.

“She’s not yours?”

I snorted. “No.” I flicked my gaze over her scrubs meaningfully. “But I need another set of hands, so instead of standing there running your mouth and acting like a bitch, get over here and help.”

A delicate flush crept up her neck. She was flustered not that’d I’d called her out. It’d be cute if she hadn’t accused me of hurting a defenseless animal.

Her head tipped to the side as she eyed me curiously. For half a second, I thought she was about to spit some more bullshit at me just on principle.

Her eyes flicked from me to the dog, something shifting behind them. Then, with a heavy breath and her jaw locking like she was mentally cussing herself out, she moved closer and dropped down beside me.

Huh? Hadn’t expected that but I wasn’t going to turn down the help ‘cause I was way out of my depths with Fido.

Like a switch being flipped, she was all business now. The loose strands of her blonde hair fell forward around her face as she began assessing the dog.

“Poor thing,” she murmured, her voice softer now. “He’s badly underweight, probably dehydrated too.” Her fingers skimmed gently down the dog’s ribcage, pressing lightly in certain spots. “I don’t feel any broken bones, but that doesn’t mean he’s not hurt. He could have internal injuries.”

I barely heard a word she was saying.

With her focus solely on her patient, I had a chance to actually look at her.

And Christ Almighty, she was beautiful.

Not just beautiful but gorgeous in a way I wasn’t used to.

This bitch was the kind of woman who didn’t rely on makeup and tight dresses to turn heads. Her beauty was flawless. Effortless. Natural.

High cheekbones. Pouty pink lips. A dusting of freckles across her nose that made her look younger than she probably was.

The woody in my jeans returned in full force. I was a sucker for freckles.

Even dressed in dark blue scrubs, she had a body that made a man sit up and take notice. Tall and lithe, with curves in all the right places. I let my gaze linger long enough to take in the way her scrubs hugged her ass and dipped at her waist.

Fuck.

It had been a long fucking time since I felt a kick of real attraction from just looking at a bitch without having her naked body under me.

I forced myself to focus as she examined the dog’s paws, hissing softly when she got a closer look at the damage.

“This guy’s been through hell,” she said, shaking her head. “His paws are all torn up. If he has owners, they’ve been neglecting him, but I seriously doubt that he does. I think he’s been on his own for a while.”

I didn’t know why that pissed me off so much. But something about the way the dog’s ribs poked out beneath his mangy black fur made my teeth grind.

“Think he needs a vet?” I asked, finally speaking up.

She glanced up at me again, this time without the suspicion she aimed at me earlier.

“My friend works at the emergency clinic a few blocks from here,” she said, nodding toward her car. “If we can get him into my car, I can take him.”

I adjusted my stance, rolling my shoulders back to ease the ache that was there. “He should be okay to move. Watch out. I’ll carry him.”

She stepped aside.

The dog whined low in his throat when I slid my arms beneath him, my hands sinking into his grimy fur. His body tensed like he was waiting for another blow, but I held steady, muttering a low, “Easy, buddy. I got you.“

The blonde scrambled ahead of me, yanking her back door open.

I stepped forward and carefully settled the dog down onto the seat, pulling back only when I was sure he was going to stay put.

Straightening, I closed the door and met her gaze. “I’ll follow you over there.”

Her eyes flicked to where the dog was laying in the back of her car then back to me. She looked like she was about to argue but to my surprise she nodded her head and moved towards the drivers door.

Thank fuck.

The waiting room of the clinic was empty except for a bored-looking receptionist behind the front desk scrolling through her phone.

“Maggie!” the blonde beside me called out as I followed her through the door with the dog in my arms. “We’ve got an emergency.”

Her friend’s brows shot up as she took in the panting, ragged mess I was holding. “Oh, poor b—” Her lips slammed shut when she got to me.

Her reaction wasn’t unusual. I was a big guy in a leather cut covered in tattoos with a perpetual pissed off look on my face. Women either got nervous, or were ready to drop their panties and hop into bed.

Maggie, it seemed, was the kind that got nervous.

“My god,” she whispered, barely hiding the way her fingers clenched her phone. “Are you with him?”

I clenched my jaw. “Seriously?”

Blondie groaned next to me. “Mags! He’s just helping,” she shot her friend a look before turning back toward the swinging door, where a young tech was already approaching with a rolling stretcher.

Instinct told me to keep a hold of the dog until I knew he was in good hands, but Blondie didn’t hesitate.

“He’s got abrasions on his paws, and he’s dehydrated and underweight. I didn’t feel any fractures when I looked him over, but it was dark too.” She’d already rattled off half the diagnosis before the guy took the damn stretcher, the pup letting out a pitiful yelp as they wheeled him swiftly to the back.

Then it was just the two of us still standing in the middle of the waiting area.

Maggie cleared her throat, regaining a shred of composure. “What’s the name?”

Blondie shot me a look.

I shrugged. “He didn’t exactly introduce himself, babe.“

Her lips twitched like she wanted to smile but was still trying to decide if I was dangerous or not.

Maggie stared at me expectantly, waiting.

Fuck.

My gaze flicked to the blank intake form on the counter, then back to the spot where the dog had disappeared.

“He looks like a Diesel,” I said finally.

The woman I kept stealing glances at raised a brow.

I shot her a look. “What? It’s a strong name.”

Lips twitching, she turned back to Maggie. “Diesel,” she confirmed, her voice much lighter than before.

Once the name was logged, we finally stepped outside.

The moment I was out the door, I fished my smokes from my pocket, sliding one between my lips before lighting up.

I took a long drag, exhaling a slow stream of smoke, and tilted my head just enough to look at her again.

Yep.

She was fucking gorgeous.

More of those blonde wisps of hair had come loose from her bun, sticking to her throat. Her scrubs hugged her curves. My eyes dragged lower to her legs as she shifted her weight from one to the other. And then up again in time to see her staring dead at me.

“Really?” Her arms crossed over her chest.

I smirked, unashamed of being caught checking her out. “Can’t blame a man for looking, baby.“

She rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “You’re not subtle, you know that?”

I exhaled another plume of smoke. “Not trying to be.”

She muttered something under her breath before plopping down onto the bench next to the entrance.

I flicked away some ash, watching her out of my peripheral.

It took a few seconds, but eventually, she sighed and glanced over at me. “It’s customary when someone helps you in an emergency that you at least ask for their name.”

My lips twitched. She was a firecracker and surprisingly I liked it from her.

“I was getting to it.”

Her brow lifted.

Chuckling low, I finally bit the bullet. “Alright, babe—what’s your name?”

A blinding smile lit up her face. “McKenzie.”

“McKenzie,” I repeated slowly, letting it roll off my tongue. I liked it.

I thought about it for a minute. The smart thing would be to give her my road name and then tell her it was nice meeting her. But for reasons I didn’t understand, I found myself giving her my government name. “It’s nice to meet you, McKenzie. I’m Bryce.”

Her eyes went to the patch on the front of my cut. I tapped the stitching with my finger. “Rage is my road name.”

She nodded her head, but I could see the wheels turning. No doubt remembering all the headlines she’d probably read over the years about my club.

I let the silence settle between us for a long moment before I jerked my chin toward her car. “You can go now. Vets got him. No reason for you to stick around.”

Her spine straightened. “I want to stick around,” she shot back, eyes narrowing for me suggesting otherwise. “I want to make sure he’s okay.”

That was unexpected.

I examined her for another second. Studied the way her brows drew together, like the thought of leaving the mutt behind actually bothered her.

And, for whatever reason, that made me like her more.

With a grunt, I took another pull from my cigarette and sank onto the bench beside her.

We sat in silence for the first time since we met, both staring out toward the parking lot, waiting for news.

I didn’t know what the hell I was doing here with her. I had plans before this whole mess, but something told me I wasn’t leaving either.

Not until we knew Diesel was gonna be okay.